


The Lonely

by roxymissrose



Category: Smallville
Genre: Alternate Universe, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2011-10-03
Packaged: 2017-10-24 07:12:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 20,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/roxymissrose/pseuds/roxymissrose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….</p><p>originally posted 8-22-2009</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

"Lex Luthor, you stand convicted of the destruction of a member world of the Commonwealth, of crimes against the citizens of Earth, and by extension, crimes against the Commonwealth. Your sentence is being relayed to all its worlds; let it be known that whoever, or whatever world, conspires to help you, descends with you. You may speak."

Lex stood on the open platform, floating halfway up the tube ringed with thousands upon thousands of seats—all of the Representatives of the Commonwealth in attendance, all of them here to see the end of Lex Luthor, most hated man in history. Splashed across hundreds of thousands of screens across the Commonwealth Center, was the face of the man who altogether destroyed a planet, weeded out the dying and infected of his home planet, destroyed outposts--a man who committed genocide on a level unimaginable. He might have halted the progress of the Wandering Disease, but he did so at the cost of millions of lives. At least, those were the charges leveled against him. That they wouldn't understand that the loss of millions was necessary in order to save billions upon billions, that the destroyed planet was the source of disease, was something Lex couldn't change. He could only accept their verdict.

Lex stood straight, his manacled hands before him. He looked totally at ease in the bright green jumpsuit he wore, despite the faded yellow bruises painting one side of his face. He smiled. "Let me thank you first for your hospitality, it's good to know that some of you haven't lost the old arts." A slight tremor made one leg of the suit crinkle. "Not that I'm suggesting at all that torture was involved. We know that such a thing has been outlawed on all worlds of the Commonwealth. And at any rate, I freely admit that I committed the crime I have been found guilty of."

He looked at the tiers of beings, magnified on the bank of screens lining the upper levels of the Hall, all of their visages set in various expressions of hatred, disgust. When he blinked, he thought perhaps he'd seen one set in deep disappointment as well. Lex sneered, knowing the cameras would record and project the look to all worlds, that it would be the look that would be immortalized for all time. A look that would be taken as the essence of Lex Luthor.

~~oOo~~

Lex gazed up at the men in front of him. They were in secret chambers now. This was the real thing, not the costumed farce put on for the great unwashed. This was his sentence.

"Lex…we're really undecided as to what to do to you. There are so many options. Death, of course, the best. But you present so many interesting avenues. Take you apart in increments; make you an interesting test subject…" Lex laughed along with his judges—his hangmen.

"You could, yes. But after what I've done for you, after taking the entire blame for the incidents…" An astonished buzz of sound ran through the gathered beings. He smiled and enjoyed a small spike of satisfaction, knowing that he could shock even these men.

" _Incidents_ , Lex? Really? Well….." The Commonwealth's spokesbeing took a few long moments to examine Lex, and then, nodded. "There is a transporting device…a new and wonderful technology recently discovered—well, new to us. It's old, how old we're not certain. Its existence is very much a secret," the being smiled. "No one, not even Superman, knows about it. So far we've only managed to arrive at one destination, but you know…for a man with an ego like yours, a world of his own might just be the ticket. You will finally be ruler of all you see, for an eternity—it simply won’t be here."

"I'll be back," Lex smiled. He'd find a way, he always did.

~~oOo~~

"We'll be back in six months with supplies, Lex. Make yourself comfortable until then."

Lex was standing in a large ring of boxes of various sizes, made of a plastic-like material. Supplies, he imagined. At least he wouldn’t have to reinvent the ax.

"Everything you need to stay alive is in these crates. Luck. Take care."

Lex looked around himself. There was miles and miles of red and tan sand, and everywhere, tough-looking scrubby plants and rocks dotted the landscape. Here and there were outcropping of rock spires, in the distance what looked like mountains…and nothing else for miles. Already he could feel the sun, burning him, feel sweat start to run. The uniformed men jogged away, back to a low platform that was the only man-made feature in this desert. They stepped up and shimmered out of existence. Curiosity led him to turn back to the platform. He reached out and—he was several feet away, facing the boxes and not the platform. Logic told him that the same thing would happen any time he tried to mount the platform. He shrugged. Idiocy was not a flaw of his.

So. He was here, he was trapped, he was alone. Lex laughed. Fuck them. They had no idea. He weathered worse than this in his life—and he couldn't remember a time when he wasn't alone.

By the time the sun set, it was as cold as it had been hot. He shivered, waiting for the small heating unit he'd found in one of the boxes start to work. He wrapped himself in one of the blanket he's found, and hoped that one of those boxes held the material to make a shelter. The box he'd managed to empty before the sun had set was split open and made a mat under him. He hoped fervently that he'd been told the truth when they said there were no predators sharing this place with him, or at least that he wasn't recognizable as a potential food source….

A loud inhuman shriek split the air, mocked Lex's concern. Well…it could be anything he thought, but better prepared than not. He managed to crack one of the packing crates open against a rock—split, it had a pretty decent edge. If whatever it was had skin as soft as his, the shard would pierce it. He sat up in the dark, the shard in his hand and his eyes trained on the spot he expected the sun to rise.

~~oOo~~

He woke slumped slightly to the side, his body a comma of aching pain, the shard still clutched in his hand. The plastic under him was already warming….

He opened crate after crate, pulling out supplies. He pulled out and set up a water purifier. It made him smile. Wonderful. He'd be able to drink his own piss. First order of business—find water.

  
He found a suitable pair of boots in a crate containing clothing. He called it clothing because it was meant to be worn, no doubt. It was…ugly in the extreme, as if it had been designed specifically to assault his sensibilities. He unloaded trousers and shirts and underclothing, complaining bitterly about each item at the top of his lungs and suddenly…stopped. And began laughing. He laughed until tears welled up in the corners of his eyes. He dropped to the ground with a whoosh of exhaled air. "Really, just *who* are you dressing for? And just what did you expect? Silk underwear? Cashmere socks? You're a *prisoner*. You're serving out a life sentence on a dirty rock God knows where and you're complaining about your wardrobe." He shook his head, and after a bit, stood again. There were a few hats in the bottom of the crate. He pulled a cap on. Fortunately they hadn't included a mirror.

He balled up the green jumpsuit he'd been wearing for what felt like an eternity, and set it to the side. He might need it again. His jailors were kind enough to stamp each item of clothing with a symbol of the Commonwealth's Justice Council. It wouldn't do to forget why he was there.

The morning turned hotter as the sun rose, but not so hot he couldn't function…it remained at the edge of discomfort. Fine. They didn't plan to torture him to death…at least not quickly.

By evening, he discovered a series of boxes containing a shelter. Intriguing. He was to assemble his own shelter—a sort jumbo crafts project designed to keep the inmate from sharpening his spork and driving it into his throat. All right. He looked up towards an outcropping of rocks. He'd have to search out a better place to set up camp...figure out a way to move this generous assortment of containers.

~~oOo~~

He'd been walking for a while now, carefully noting the direction, keeping track of the way back. He could feel a slight change in the air, heard a burbling noise, and smiled.

Water. Hopefully.

He climbed a slight rise and there it was below him, water flowing through rocks, dropping into a small stream with high banks. Perfect. He could drink, bathe…and just like that, the heavens tore open, and rain—torrents of rain—roared out of the sky. He was startled, almost afraid. He couldn't see through the roaring grey wall, he was finding it difficult to stand, and he slowly became afraid of drowning where he stood.

He raced as quickly as he could through the pounding rain for a tumbled pile of rocks—with any luck, there might be shelter there. And hell yes, he was going to be lucky—by this point surely he'd gone right through bad luck and back into good?

There was a cave tucked into the rocks, small, the ceiling barely high enough to let him stand but—it was shelter. He lay back against the warm rock walls and panted for breath…damn it. Shelter just moved to the top of his list. If there were going to be downpours like this out of nowhere, than yes, shelter was his first priority.

He looked out at the grey curtain roiling at the entrance. It made no sense. There was no indication of flash flooding here—no sign the stream grew wider or higher, and he was fairly certain that torrential water left some sort of sign, on the ground, and on rocks, and he'd seen nothing he could recognize. The supplies he'd unearthed so far seemed to indicate his captors—pardon, jailors—expected this place to be arid, desert. He smirked. Well, it looked like someone cocked up here. Perhaps their mistakes could be turned to his benefit…and then, the weird, unearthly howl of the night before split the skies, and he was reminded of how they'd assured him that the native life were small, retiring herbivores, that the most active and fearsome predator was an aardvark-like insectivore…and all confidence in that bled away. He'd probably been right to arm himself. Fuck. He hoped sincerely something in those crates would be make a practical weapon.

~~oOo~~


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….

Morning came, and he decided that the spot they dropped the boxes in was not the ideal place to make a camp—the spot above the small stream was flat, sheltered on one side by the rock spires, close to clean water…he walked around the area. It should do. He only needed to drag the crates from the landing to here. He narrowed his eyes at the rock strewn hill. Right. No problem….

He never imagined himself a beast of burden. There were some points in his life that he'd had to perform manual labor—Mother's ranch…the Kent farm…the island….he winced. Yes, the island. He doubted it would come to that…level of insanity. He was fairly certain his jailors wanted him to remain as sane as possible, or what would their punishment come to? But….

Work was good, he reminded himself, and dragged the crate over the sandy soil. A flattened crate performed duty as a sled, the apparently indestructible overalls a yoke of sorts. Unfortunately his body was nowhere near as indestructible as the overalls. By the end of the day, he had burns on his shoulders—on top of the burns, he had blisters on feet and arms and shoulders and he was nauseous from the never-ending, oppressive, heat.

"Really, this is ridiculous. This is torture, pure and simple—torture, you hear me? I know you're broadcasting this—this dog and pony show to the worlds." Lex flipped 'them' off, and staggered down to the river. He dropped his clothes on the bank, and fumbled his way over slick rocks until he was thigh deep in the water. He breathed out a great sigh of relief. This planet might not have been as dry as no doubt his captors had hoped for, but it was hot as hell, and the cool moving water was almost as good as a full body massage. He rinsed and rubbed grime off as well as he could, and then did the same to his clothes. He sighed again as he wrung out the bright green clothing and spread them on rocks to dry, muttered to himself, "Torture, pure and simple."

~~oOo~~

The morning sun rose over the hills and Lex marveled at how for a short while, the place was almost…pretty. Sunlight made minerals in the rocks dance with light, so that it looked like they were studded with diamonds, the colors in the sand—purple, red, bronze—glittered under the butter yellow sun. Slowly, the heat made its presence known, but for a bit, Lex sat peacefully and watched the world change.

By late afternoon, he'd found crates that contained a flexible shelter, one that inflated itself, for which he was extremely grateful. Once it was fully inflated, Lex hooked the separate sections together, and ended up with a three room shelter—one without a bath, the bastards. He found a foam that was supposed to be injected in the walls of the shelter, once injected, it expanded and hardened, making the shelter rigid. Now it was more like a hut, and less like a tent. He found also, that the foam could be sprayed on the walls and he had a window in which the foam stayed soft, and could be smoothed, shaped. Working slowly but surely, he ended up with a smooth walled, cool sort of…cave. He promptly dubbed it the Flintstone house. Or depending on his mood, the Flintstone house of pain.

Using a manual so generously provided, and the tools also, he spent a few lively days constructing an outhouse. It was while doing that, digging a deep hole in the ground, and planning for which way to go when digging the next, he realized that there would be a need for new holes. That he would never not need an outhouse, that his shiny tools and gadgets would eventually stop working…that maybe his supply drops would stop, that some day, he might be forgotten…that he was more than likely meant to die, alone, on this ball of roasting dust….

Lex crouched in the bottom of the hole he'd dug, rubbed blistered, bleeding hands over his face and swore he wouldn't cry, but his body won the victory over his will, and he sobbed, cried hard, loud, and long, all alone, at the bottom of the magnificent hole he'd dug. Down in the cool and quiet, he lamented, he mourned the loss of all he'd had. "Clark, what you did to me. Clark," he sobbed. "Did you know what they were going to do…I can't believe that." his head fell back against the wall of the hole. "I know you wouldn't throw me here, not after the Phantom Zone. Not after that. "

After a while he pulled himself together, and worked his way back up the ladder, back into his hut. He lay down in the bedroom, atop an undressed mattress and rubbed his raw, red eyes. He'd never sleep, not like this, not so full of sorrow….

~~oOo~~

A few hours later, Lex was startled out of a deep dreamless sleep by a heart-stopping scream. Something was clawing at the walls and doors of the hut, fighting to get in and Lex was certain it wasn't driven by curiosity, whatever it was. He rolled upright on the mattress, and wrapped arms around himself, scrabbled back on the mattress until he was flush against the wall. whatever was out there was dangerous—absolutely *not* an insectivorous aardvark. Thank goodness it couldn't claw through stone. The walls of the hut were just as stiff and unyielding as granite, and wrapping himself up in a blanket, he thanked his vacuous, under-informed, persecuting jailors for doing at least one thing right.

Morning found Lex examining the outside of his shelter. The walls might have been unyielding as rock, but still, it had gouged a few shallow scratches into the material, and the ground around it was scored with claw marks. Lex exhaled noisily.

"Well. No evening drinks on the veranda, certainly. My sincerest thanks to whoever came up with the surfacing for this little dump." He patted the white wall thankfully. "I think you saved my life, Flintstone house…but you're still ugly as sin."

~~oOo~~

Time passed and Lex amused himself playing Robinson Crusoe. He'd managed to create a garden with amendments he found in the crates to enrich the dusty soil, and planted the seed he'd found, all with the help of gardening manuals he'd also been so thoughtfully provided. So far, the local insects and the small, lizard-like creatures that were everywhere, were uninterested in the squares he'd scratched out, and with some luck and a lot of work, he hoped he'd be able to supplement his diet. What food there'd been in the magical crates was nutritious, no doubt, but boring. Very boring. And the supplies were strictly substance free. No wine, no liquor, no cannabis…he eyed a few of the cactus-y looking plants speculatively. Outside of the perimeter of the space he considered his, grew a type of shrub that seemed to be covered with berries…berries could be fermented, right? Wasn't gin made from berries? Or something like that. Certainly when he was drinking it, it had never been important to know….

Lex shuddered. Well. He was sure he'd find some way to temper constant lucidity. He looked down at the sharp-edged trowel in his hand. Besides the obvious, of course.

~~oOo~~

It didn't take a genius to understand that being presented with the problem of survival was his jailors' way to head off thoughts of suicide. He was fine with it. It made the time pass and mostly kept his thoughts off himself—he refused to knuckle under to his isolation. He was beginning to think that the thing that screamed in the night had stepped up efforts to come after him. He must present a pretty problem to the screamer. He respected that--problem solving was something Lex understood. After all wasn't that what life was about?

Lex threw a rock across the river, watched it hit the water and sink with a satisfying splash. Wasn't that all that Clark had represented once? Just a pretty problem to solve, a problem that might intersect with questions he had about his own life. Why couldn't the man have seen that? That solving it had more to do with himself that with Clark? Well, he managed to do it without Clark's help. Of course.

Lex threw another rock, and imagined that the rocks in the river were people he knew. "Dad—if I could, I'd bring you back and kill you again," he muttered. "Clark, you self-righteous bag of wind…you look like an idiot in that costume. Uniform. Whatever. Two stones for you."

One after the other, he threw stones and hit his target time after time….

"Damn it!" Lex shouted. "Lex, you idiot!" Of course. Weapons.

He gathered rocks, and piled them at the hut entrance. Maybe he'd just see what it was that was coming after him.

 _Rocks, Lex? Really? Something with claws hard enough to scratch rock, and you arm yourself with--_

"Shut up." It didn't matter. He felt a bit safer with his arsenal, and for the first time in quite a few days, lay down feeling a lot less tense…which only allowed his thoughts to travel where they hadn't in quite a while. He was hyper aware of his skin, the way sweat dried on it, every little itch, and faint sting of a myriad scratches, the sheet under his back, the slightly scratchy sleep pants pressing against his dick and he shifted on the narrow bed..."Oh fuck," he groaned, and pressed against it. It grew rapidly against the warmth and pressure of his palm. He pushed the pants down around his hips, and let his dick free. He licked up the center of his palm, and began jerking off, rough and fast, his eyes squeezed shut. Fast. Get it over with. He was hard, his hand was hot, and he wanted, wanted to come desperately, and it wasn't working. He imagined partner after partner--finally, just anyone who hadn't pissed him off. Tried to imagine some of the wilder things he'd done and…finally sighed, and gave up. Let his mind go where it wanted and there he was again, weak golden sunlight barely lighting the rough wood walls of the loft, just enough light to pick out Clark, back arched against the couch, mouth moving. Lex tilted his head and heard his name being panted softly, in time with the hand moving on Clark's dick. Lex was instantly so hard he gasped—his dick jerked and grew in his hand and he replayed the image of Clark calling out 'Lex', and coming all over himself until Lex came himself….

What a shame it hadn't happened like that. Lex grimaced and wiped his hand on the pants, and in moments, the last bit of tension slithered out of his muscles and he slid, boneless and relaxed, into a deep sleep.

~~oOo~~


	3. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….

  
Five months and twenty-nine days passed, and Lex was ready for the drop. He'd just dug a trench behind the shelter, hoping to transplant some of the bushes there, and stopped to take a breather. Eventually, and with luck, they'd grow tall enough to produce some shade…long term. He had time.

 _Time is something we have plenty of, little soldier. Time and time…_

Lex ignored the increasingly familiar yammering in his head. He wiped his dripping forehead, squinted eyes at the acid bright sky and daydreamed about what he hoped would come with this drop. Leaning on the shovel, he thought…mostly he was hoping for a different voice, for music, for some sound other than his own breathing, other than the fall of water and the shriek of whatever small creature was killed in the night. That brought his thoughts around to the container of gnawed bones he's collected. Maybe they'd be able to tell what it was out there that was such a consummate predator.

 _man is a problem solving animal…_

"Oh, shut up." Lex ignored the voice, ignored the tall blonde edging around the perimeter of the garden.

You have a tenuous grasp on reality, don’t you? it said, and walked a little closer. Lex thought, with just an edge of desperation,' It's not real. Not real…' but Lucas looks rather solid for all Lex knew that his half-brother's body was safely tucked into a rectangle of ground somewhere in France, had been for years.

Lex…Lex. It's fine. Lucas came closer. You can hear me, and see me…I'd only worry if you felt me. Lucas reached out a hand and Lex stepped back, his heart hammering, the breath he drew in was sharp edged as a knife and lodged in his throat. He knew it was a…a dream, he knew it wasn't real and yet…his eyes closed and he waited, terror squeezing his lungs. "Stop it," he said and opened his eyes. "Go away. Leave me alone. Now."

Lucas stepped back. Oh, come on now Lex. Remember what fun we used to have? Remember that room in…where was it…Chicago, I think. Lots of Grey Goose and ice. Remember the ice? Slippery, sliding, melting…cold little trails you chased with your hot, hot tongue….

Lex shuddered, halfway between arousal and disgust. "That was a million years and a different, deranged lifetime ago." He laughed, sharp as breaking glass, and chopped the air with the edge of his hand. Lucas wavered. "Yes, I remember. It was dark, the room stank, and you were so drunk you couldn't even get off. Pitiful." He turned away from the ghost. "You're wasting my time. You didn't scare when you were alive," he lied—just a little bit—"and you don’t scare me now."

Lucas was suddenly in front of him, head tilted to catch Lex's eyes. He smiled wide and licked his lips. Be back later, he drawled and slowly thinned to nothing.

Lex shook his head. That boy…stupid as a post, even dead. He jabbed the shovel into the earth, the little snarl on his lips unnoticed.

 _don’t be so sure you've won,_ the voice said, and this voice definitely wasn't Lucas'….

~~oOo~~

He woke early on the day before the drop was to occur. He'd considered bringing the box of bones. There was something about it that was disturbingly grade-school, as if he was a child bringing a cheap little treasure to show-and-tell…Lex shrugged. Well. It was proof there was a danger, and that he needed some other means of protection besides rocks and plastic shards. After all, if he got eaten one night, what fun was there in that?

Lex slid and scrambled down the rocks at the far side of Camp Luthor, and headed out into the bright light. He adjusted the brim of his hat, whistled a short snatch of music—yes, damn it, he was excited. But the loneliness was beginning to bother him, hell; he was already at the point that he was holding fascinating conversations with himself—Lucas, thank god, hadn't reappeared with his disturbing tales of ice cubes and that six foot five hooker dressed like Marilyn and hung like Dillinger…or had they talked about that at all…?

At least when he talked to himself, that annoying, nattering, voice in his head was quiet…Lex snorted. "That should be alarming, shouldn't it? Voices in my head…" he chuckled. "Mind you, I've had experience with this. Once, a million years ago, my invisible friend tried to kill me. But I showed him, I got him first."

 _Well, it was kill or be killed._

"Exactly! That's just what I tried to make Clark see—that sometime, striking first is the only reasonable option. He was an intelligent boy, why didn't he get that?" Lex was frowning, and stumbled over something in his path. He looked down. A branch, he'd tripped over a tree branch large around as his wrist. "Hunh. There isn't any large vegetation around here…wonder where that came from?"

He hefted it, swung it a little. "I should keep this, shouldn't I? What do you think?"

Jonathan Kent shrugged. "It could come in handy." They walked along a bit in silence, and then Jonathan said, "You do realize that you've knocked yourself out, don't you?"

"I beg your pardon?" Lex asked. Homey little aphorisms were something he expected from Jonathan Kent, the man was as lively a conversationalist as a barn door, but that was odd even for him.

"I said wake up, you're about to become dinner."

Lex jerked all over, startling a _wuff_ from the thing leaning over him, watching him come back awake. Lex's head pounded viciously, but at the moment, all he could think was that he had the branch in his hand and no other weapon. The thing lunged at him, and Lex stuck it across the snout. It whipped its head away and hissed.

It was large, the size of a Newfoundland, slavered just as much as a Newfoundland. It was low slung and armored, it's back knobby with bone, and it twitched a long tail ending in a spiked ball. It looked a bit like his childhood drawings of dinosaurs. This thing, though, was as bright and colorful as a butterfly, with neon fur peeking out between its armored plates. It snorted, and its flexible lips peeled back from fangs like a Rottweiler's. Hot, damp breath washed over him, saliva dripped onto Lex's arm and he hoped it had no poison—the thing clamped down on his leg, and a shriek erupted from Lex's mouth. He'd been unprepared for it to hurt so horribly much. He brought the branch down hard on the thing's head, and it shifted its grip and bit down again.

Lex went faint at the feel of teeth shredding, ripping through his skin. He beat at the thing's head, and it just tightened its grip. Lex was sobbing in pain and fear—afraid the thing was prepared to eat him alive. He switched from pummeling it with the branch to doing his best to pierce its leathery skin. He jabbed again and again, while the thing seemed content to hold onto Lex and wait for him to tire himself out fighting. A dragon, Lex thought, I'm vanquished by a dragon—Lex attempted a final time to stab it, and luck caught up with him again. The end of the branch skittered over the thing's snout and lodged itself in its eye. "Oh god, shit, thank you—"

It squealed, and the second its jaws relaxed, Lex tore his leg free, not even feeling bones grinding as he did--he put all his weight behind the thrust. The branch broke the bone around its eye socket and drove into its brain. The thing thrashed wildly, driving its knobbed tail into Lex's ankle, and lashing it against his calf as it died. Lex screamed again, cursing and sobbing at once. It hurt like hell, and the bite felt like it was on fire and he thought maybe he might have been poisoned but—he'd killed it. Killed the old dragon again. Bastard. Disguising himself as a Gila monster, feh. He'd recognize his dad no matter what the outside looked like. "Right Clark? We know that right?" Clark was being a bitch, not answering but that didn't matter. Lex knew—he had the knowledge to sustain him between sobbing, painful breaths, between the growing patches of grey narrowing his sight, that Clark would come to save him. He always did.

Lex dragged himself into the shadow of a jumbled group of rocks spires. There was no way could he lay outside in the sun, not broken and spread out like a brunch buffet for the tiny lizards come to investigate spilled blood.

It took a million years before he was finally able to stop.

Victory. Once again, his dad had tried to kill him, and once again he failed. What would it take for Clark to see? How many times, before Clark understood?

It was dark for a bit, and when he woke again, a figure was crouched next to him. He tried to smile, and his lips cracked.

"Clark, don’t you remember back then…when you believed in me? How did you ever think anything was going to get better once you knew my own father was trying to kill me?"

"Shh." Not Clark, Jonathan. A dry sob rattled in Lex's throat. "Shh, let's get you under cover, son. Come on."

"Water?"

"On your belt, but don't drink it yet. Pour some on the wound. A bit, to flush it out. Wrap your shirt around it until the bleeding stops. It's not as bad as it looks, son. At least, not for someone like you. You know it'll heal fast. Clark's gift--"

Right. Clark's one good gift..."Okay, right, okay," Lex nodded. Jonathan was always right. Jonathan was a good man, all about light and life and growing things, not like Dad who only wanted power and better if it was someone else's he stole….Lex passed out, hand wrapped around the bleeding wound.

~~oOo~~


	4. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….

Luthor! Mr. Luthor!"

Lex heard a sound that woke him out of his nightmares and he was incredibly grateful to the sound when it came again.

"Luthor—Lex! We don’t have long to stay—there's—there's trouble now, we have to hurry."

Lex hissed, and dragged himself upright. He was shaky and nauseous, had slept like the dead in what turned out to be the creature's nest, a pile of branches and leaves it'd brought from somewhere….there'd been eggs in the nest, and he'd broken them. The smell of decomposing hatchlings clogged his throat, but the smell of the creature and its eggs seemed to keep the tiny lizard-things at bay…another thing to be grateful for, he supposed.

Lex pulled himself out of the shelter of the rocks, keeping weight off his healing leg as well as he could. Again the voice rang out—

"Gotta go—we'll be back, I'm sure. I just don’t know when—"

"No," Lex tried to shout, "wait! Wait…" Lex fell back against the cave wall, exhausted. His eyelids dropped against his will. His body craved sleep while it healed, sleep and food, and at the moment, he could only give it sleep….

~~oOo~~

It took three full days after the missed drop before Lex was able to walk, and when he could, the first thing he did was go back to his camp, and eat. He washed down energy bars with water, and ate right to the point of being too full. Experience taught him not to deny himself—he ate and ate until he couldn't bear the thought of food, and ate a bit past that. He slept again, the next time he woke, he made sure the wound was healing well. Without his abilities, he had no doubt, he would have died. He rose and walked his little camp, made sure everything was secure. The garden was dry but salvageable, and having nothing else to do, he attended to his plants.

It was late afternoon before he felt able to leave the camp, and he headed down to the drop site. There were a few small crates, food, probably, perhaps tools. And off to the side, a long narrow box. It looked disturbingly coffin sized….

He stood over the box. There was a message pod glued to the lid. He twisted it free and thumbed it on.

"Mr. Luthor. We've been invaded, the Commonwealth is at war and—and--well, this might be the last shipment in a long while—"

Lex slumped to the ground, and everything around him swam. He'd been looking forward to human contact and the disappointment, the warning that it might be longer than six months before he saw another person again, hit him hard. He blinked to clear his eyes, took a deep breath, and continued the recording. "—directions are inside the lid for the 'struct." The voice lowered, as if what came next was a secret. "Have no idea how this was managed—you have very loyal and influential friends, Lex. 'Til next time."

Lex resisted the temptation to replay the message. It could wait. All he had was time. He opened the smaller boxes first—more rations, more blankets, more paper books—empty notebooks for use as journals, he supposed, or to write reams of hate mail to his captors…he surprised himself by smiling.

After he'd sorted everything out carefully, made piles by type, and repacked the boxes to bring to Camp Luthor, he decided to open the biggest crate next. Was it a vehicle of some sort? That would be…interesting to assemble. Or maybe, a shower? A bucket and a rope made a sort of shower but he'd kill for a real one…he refused to hope too intensely, these were after all the people who included directions to build and maintain an outhouse.

He wrenched the top free, and slid it off the crate. Inside was something swathed in translucent plastic sheeting. He pulled the plastic back and jumped away with a curse.

There was a body inside the box.

~~oOo~~

 **2**

"What the fuck…" Lex swallowed. Why would they…he looked closer. It was Clark. Clark was dead. They sent him a dead Clark—his hand flew up to cover his mouth and he gasped. Then horribly, giggled. He felt it popping in his chest like champagne, swirling around until it rose out of his throat and burst free. He giggled, until giggles turned to laughter, and laughter…just…would…not…stop….

After a moment, he realized he was on the ground, rolled into a ball, and his sides and throat were aching. God, he was falling to pieces, completely loosing control of himself. He pulled himself up right, leaned over the box and looked into the face of a serene, sleeping, Clark Kent. Or…no. Not Clark. This was a slightly younger version, more like the boy who'd rescued him, than the man who insisted he was the source of all evil in the world, pompous…alien…*bitch*.

"What is this? A—a clone?" he muttered to himself. He touched the hand, and the skin was cool, but not with the chill of death, the skin felt alive. He pressed a finger to the neck, but there was no pulse. Not a clone. A robot? From where, though? He had no knowledge of any society capable of constructing a robot so lifelike, but the voice on the recorder spoke as if it was a common thing, a 'struct'—short for construct? That seemed to indicate that it was common enough for the name to have become generic…like kleenex and band-aid and…and vaseline…Lex slowed his thoughts.

"You're stalling," he scolded himself. "You're afraid. Well, perhaps you should be. You get a corpse-like copy of Clark in a crate. Why…?" He shook his head, and glanced at his feet. Ah. The lid.

 _A product of Wayne Industries Constructs. There are constructs for every need, and you've chosen the companion construct. Wayne Constructs congratulates you, and welcomes you to the family._

 _Operating instructions couldn't be simpler! Turn on the construct, and be prepared for a short learning cycle. Your construct absorbs information from *you* and adjusts him/herself constantly in order to be a suitable companion to *you*. We guarantee satisfaction. All constructs are equipped with basic and necessary information, geared towards *you* and the environment he/she will be operating in._

 _To activate the construct, press the thumb (this construct will only operate with *your* print) against the left eye, remove, and wait two minutes for the construct to become active. Then, prepare to welcome your new companion!_

 _This construct is a physically accurate model of a human being and capable of a full range of human activities. Please do not void the warranty by altering programming or parts. Aftermarket additions not provided and installed by WI may also void the warranty._

Lex gaped in horrified astonishment at the lid. Not only do they send him a—a—thing, a robot, android, what the hell, but they send him one made by Wayne Industries? Wayne, as in fucking Bruce Wayne? Was this payback for that 'I told you so'? He'd argued with Bruce for *years*, trying to get the man to work with him—plan for the moment when they'd be invaded—

And then Lex did get to say 'I told you so', when those hundreds of ships dropped into the earth's atmosphere…and so what if it turned out they wanted Earth to join their stupid council of planets? They *could* have been invaders. Hell, they might as well have been, they demolished Earth's culture….well, fine. They stopped wars and cured disease and tried to sell it as a good thing, instead of the end of human self-determination that it was. Flinging beads and baubles at the gullible natives…Lex flexed his hand, remembering the ugly plastic thing that had once been on the end of his wrist, and frowned, thinking…he shrugged and stared back at the construct, the puzzling construct. Back to the problem at hand, he thought, and choked briefly on a bitter laugh….

He was absolutely certain that not one of those cultures had ever had robots with such a--life-like appearance. And there was no fucking way Wayne came up with this technology…"It's just not possible," Lex snarled, pacing around the crate. If he hadn't been able to, than Wayne hadn't. They must have stolen it from some where. Some one--

Curiosity finally overcame anger--he tweaked soft golden skin, brushed his finger tips over the amazing, minute hairs covering its arms. The detail was mind-boggling--the hairs, tiny wrinkles in the skin, imperfections in color and smoothness—He found himself feeling for a pulse again, the god-damn thing was so life-like, it defied his logic. This thing was….

Was not in the slightest like his hand. His hand had been re-grown—it was his own flesh and blood, not a robotic reproduction. He pulled the plastic sheeting away from the still form until all of it was revealed, dressed in a soft grey uniform very reminiscent of hospital scrubs. Wonderful. The company apparently adopted Bruce's fashion sense.

A long moment unfolded in which Lex stared down at the still form in the crate, the only sound the slow, steady rasp of his breath, a hot breeze licked at his neck, a bead of sweat worked its way in a slithery tickle down the middle of his chest….

Lex flicked his tongue over his damp upper lip and shrugged. Lifted the waist of the trousers and looked.

"Hunh."

It was anatomically correct, yes. And from what he remembered of the one time Clark had nearly fallen…well, it hadn't exactly been Clark at the time, not really. He shivered as the memory, part pain, part pleasure, blew through his mind—yes, it seemed accurate for the subject. He pulled away from the memory, dismissed it.

"So…they've sent me a giant self-powered dildo? Well, I'm on board for that. Unless—" Maybe the penis was just for show? "Oh for fuck's sake," he snapped. "What the hell is *wrong* with you?" he snarled. He had a miracle of machinery here, so much he could learn from it, and here he was thinking with his dick. "Lex, Lex, Lex. Always has been your problem, thinking with your dick, _(heart, a voice deep inside whispered)_ instead of your brain."

He pushed the construct's eyelid up, revealing a clear, ocean-green iris, complete with a ring of gold surrounding a pinpoint pupil. Jesus, he thought, that's Clark—Clark's eye. He took a deep breath and pressed his thumb against the eye even though his body protested it. He pulled it away, wiped it on his pants leg. It felt…uncomfortable, the eye was moist, and gave faintly under the pressure of his thumb. Lex counted two minutes down….

Nothing. No movement, no breath, not a thing. He reached out and gently shook the thing. "Hey. Wake up and entertain me," Lex muttered. "Hey—SHIT."

He jumped back. The thing opened both eyes and gasped. It blinked rapidly, its face going through different expressions and Lex was unsettled to see that for a second it looked terrified before it just looked…mildly surprised. It sat up, and looked at Lex. "Hello"

Lex murmured, "Ha--ppy birthday," and it quirked an eyebrow at him.

"Happy birthday. It is a celebration of birth. Birthday. It is a happy occasion, happy birthday." It smiled, and Lex felt his heart clench.

"Stop that! I'm not stupid, Clark. What the hell is this charade for? Some new way to laugh at me, you bastard?"

"I am…is Clark my name? Everything has a name. Will you name me?" It looked hopeful; it looked horribly like a puppy eager to please. Much too sweet and innocent—doubt flooded him. Clark had never been *that* innocent. It must be just what the crate named it—a Wayne Industries construct. Well, *good*.

"Clark…Clark…no, I don't think that's a name that suits you. Maybe…Kal?" He stepped forward and the construct watched him move closer, smiling sweetly.

"Kal," it said, rolling the name in its mouth like it tasted it. "Yes, I like it. Thank you. May I move?"

Lex nodded and it climbed clumsily out of the box, and staggered when its feet touched ground, but it was looking around, eyes wide and fascinated. "I've never walked before. The floor—ground—is very." It stopped and thought. "Nice. Comforting. Nice to step down and have solid beneath my feet."

Lex nodded, not really knowing what to say to it. Him.

He staggered forward a bit, but by the time he reached Lex, he was walking perfectly fine. "I belong to you. I exist to help you in whatever way you choose." he hesitated, as if he was thinking. "My name is Kal. May I know your name?

"I'm…Lex. Lex Luthor."

The construct smiled wide, blindingly beautiful. As always. "Lex Luthor—ah! I know who you are."

Lex steeped back, and glared at him. "Oh really?"

"You are famous--wealthy, brilliant, an inventor and innovator and," he blushed and Lex bit the inside of his cheek—"very pretty."

"What!" Lex stepped back in shock, and rapidly escalating anger. "Pretty? What the hell?"

Kal blushed harder. "That was not a pleasing observation? I'm sorry. I'm still learning."

 _How the fuck does it blush? Why the fuck--_ "It's…its okay. Let's get back to camp. I mean, follow me." Lex ordered, started to walk away, and stumbled. He couldn't contain a hiss of pain as a spear of fire stabbed through his calf.

Kal was at his side in a second. He knelt and felt Lex's ankle, his leg. He frowned at the place where the dragon had torn at him. "Hmm. This wound is very recently healed. There was a fracture. You should not be applying weight to it." He stood.

Lex gaped at him. "Can you--you understand about wounds—physical damage?" Lex's eyes narrowed with a growing suspicion. "Can you…see the damage?"

"Yes," Kal nodded. "I can." He swept his arms under Lex and carried him as effortlessly as Lex would carry a kitten.

Lex fought against the hold for a moment before giving in. "You--you're super strong."

"I am very strong. I'm not sure about super, though," he chuckled. Lex closed his eyes. It was ridiculous, the resemblance, the attitude, it was too close. This had to be Clark. Why was he pretending to be a…a construct? Maybe so that he could spy on Lex? Amuse himself watching Lex scrabble a life out of this rock, torture himself? Lex closed his eyes tight, the pressure forcing a fat, hot, tear out of the corner of his eye.

"Shhh, Lex. It's okay. I'm here now. I can watch out for you now."

~~oOo~~


	5. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….

Lex directed him into the kitchen area of the hut, and the minute Kal--*Clark*--set him down, Lex grabbed a knife from the cutlery box and shoved the blade against Clark's ribs. He expected the blade to fold, for Clark to laugh, shove him away, to lecture him on his stupidity…impossibly, the knife slid right inside, like cutting butter. Kal's face crumbled and he fell back, crying out—in pain. There was no mistaking the sound, and Lex was shocked into crying out with him

Kal stumbled and fell to the ground. "Oh—oh--that—" The grey top was ripped open, and Lex could see the split skin spurt a cloudy, orangish fluid, caught sight of what looked like a metal lattice under the skin, before it knit back up. "That *hurt*," Kal gasped and then, was silent. He sat, head down, and made no effort to move, even after his skin was whole again.

Lex dropped to his knees as well. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry—are you--?" He ran his hand over the spot still smeared with fluid but the cut was gone, the skin as smooth as it had been. Insane—the construct felt pain? Why--*how*? Lex moved his hand and the shirt fell back into place—it was also mended. Lex felt faint. This was…it couldn't be real, could it? Was he dreaming?

"I know, you had to see with your own eyes." Kal lifted his head. The statement was not quite a condemnation, but it was close. "But now you have concrete proof of what I am—besides your companion." His eyes were wide and wet and wounded and Lex felt like a murderous ass—and that certainly was proof he wasn't dreaming..

"Come on, let me help you up." Lifting Kal, to his feet, he wondered just how that quick healing ability worked, if the material of the shirt and the skin over the metal was composed of…nanites perhaps? His fingers itched to dig into Kal, but he'd learned a lesson from dealing with the real one.

Once Kal was on his feet--quicker than Lex would have thought possible--he asked to see the camp, and Lex took him on a slow walk around the site, his attention more on his healthy and entirely too trusting companion then his few little dry acres. After they'd made the circuit of his little camp, Lex made a grand gesture with one hand and said, "Welcome to Camp Luthor," in what was meant to be an ironic tone, but embarrassingly, he heard the whisper of pride in his voice.  
.  
Kal looked around and smiled. "Camp Luthor?"

Lex looked at the place, the way he assumed Kal probably saw it. The hut, the outhouse a few yards back from the hut, the small squares that made up an attempt at a garden…the rocks outlining a non-existent lawn.

Lex shrugged, acting indifference, even though he could feel the blush washing over his scalp, and streaking his cheeks. This Clark—Kal--was just as aware of his shortcomings and hubris as the real one. This one, though…this one he controlled. He didn't need to worry about the opinions this one might hold about Lex's actions. This one he owned, like he owned a car, or…or a pet. Albeit a very powerful pet, it seemed. Kal seemed to possess similar powers as Clark's. And that made no sense. Why had they sent him so powerful a weapon, one that had the potential to be utterly loyal to him. What was their game? Maybe…maybe this thing was some…extra punishment, a torture….

Lex walked into the hut. He was tired, angry, and aching. He'd go to bed now and bathe in the morning. He stopped and was bumped by Kal.

"What are you doing?"

"Coming into the house with you?"

"No." Lex drew himself up and stared into Kal's eyes. He let his expression harden. He was not about to be so easily taken in, not Lex Luthor. "You stay outside with the rest of the tools."

"But…but I belong with you."

"Tools belong outside, under the tarp." Lex glared at the construct until with a small sigh, he turned and walked slowly to stand under the tarp. He looked at Lex with a sorrowful tilt to his mouth. Lex managed to stop himself before telling him good night.

Morning broke, and Kal was still standing where Lex had directed him to, watching the sun pour honey colored light over the hills. He seemed…moved by the beauty that Lex recognized in this sunrise. That stopped him. The construct seemed to have aesthetic sense. He had actually meant it when he'd said he was pretty? Lex blushed again and cursed. Isolation was wreaking havoc on his emotional state.

Kal turned to Lex and smiled. "Good morning, Lex."

Lex snapped, "Don't call me Lex. Friends call me Lex. You will address me as sir," he said, and felt a little…asshole-ish, but…his majordomo had called him sir and certainly nothing else more personal than Mr. Luthor, and this thing was…a walking, talking…hammer.

Kal dropped his eyes and said, "Of course, sorry, sir." He looked up and said, "Can I be of service to you today?" He--it—he--sounded hopeful.

 _It!_ Lex huffed in frustration. He needed to get this pronoun thing under control. It. Giant capital it—no matter what it looked like or acted like. In fact—"Do you need to eat?"

He--it tilted its unfairly beautiful head and said slowly, "No, I don't *need* to eat…"

"But you can?" _fascinating._ "How do you—eliminate the food you ingest?"

"Well…" He looked thoughtful. "I suppose much the same as you…sir."

"What? Really?" Lex's eyes lit up. This was very, very interesting—and more examples of technology that no one was capable of when he left Earth. Which means Wayne definitely got the technology from somewhere not on earth or in the commonwealth at all…which meant…Clark probably had a hand in it. Some how. Some way.

Kal looked uncomfortable, and continued, "But…I can only eat or drink small amounts, I'm sorry, sir."

"Don’t be ridiculous," Lex laughed. "I don't have food to share with you unnecessarily. Though if you don't require it, than how do you power yourself?"

"Battery," he replied with his annoyingly sweet smile, and pointed at the sky. "Sunlight. It's converted to power and stored."

Lex just frowned in reply.

~~oOo~~

Kal proved himself more useful than any tool they could have sent. A shovel wasn't capable of deducing that the irrigation ditches they were making needed to be deeper than Lex had planned for. Or that the next garden Lex planned would wash away in the location Lex chose….

At the end of the evening, Lex made dinner, and Kal watched, and asked questions, and after a long few minutes of silence, Lex reluctantly began to explain the steps to making a simple omelet, and before he was really aware of what he was doing, he was bemoaning the fact that the eggs weren't real before remembering that Kal was…a fancy hammer, for all intents and purposes.

He sat and ate, and Kal watched, a faint smile on his face, and after Lex finished, Kal took the plate away, and cleaned it. The sun was almost completely down by the time he'd cleaned up after Lex, the light washing the interior of the shelter tinted everything a pale pink. Kal looked like he was made of gold, the grey institutional style clothing took nothing away from him, and when he leaned back against the ivory wall, his gold skin and black, black hair made a picture that took Lex's breath away. He felt a trembling clench in his stomach, and his throat was tight....

"Go back to your place," Lex ordered, confusion made his tone knife sharp, and Kal looked confused.

"But…I am your companion," he said in a reasonable tone, as if Lex might have forgotten and Lex snorted.

"You are a tool and tools stay outside. Where you were last night. Go on."

Kal hung his head and walked slowly out to the corner he'd spent the previous night in and Lex reminded himself sternly that this thing was just that, a clever construction, an amazing machine and no more. Not even if it's lip trembled. Which it didn't. He was positive about that.

Kal tried to talk to him the following day, and Lex didn't respond, and finally had to order Kal to be silent. It gave him space to concentrate on what was important. He'd decided that the next time the gate opened, he was going through it, come hell or high water.

He eyed Kal, and wondered…was there some way to convert this tool into a weapon?

Kal didn't go against orders—what Lex demanded, he did. He spent hours clearing the edges of Camp Luthor, dragging brush and rocks out of the way, collecting likely stones to construct a wall, his skin reknitting itself when he tore it grubbing out brush and vines. He tore finger nails loose pulling stones to stack where Lex wanted them. Lex ignored it; he told himself that Kal would have those fingernails restored before morning…ignored the tiny sounds of distress the construct made. It made sense—no doubt it was an expensive piece of equipment. It was just logical that it should try to keep from injuring itself, and the pain it felt was probably meant as a reminder not to do so…or maybe it was for…he shuddered, and felt something cold brush against his spine, heard the laughter of twisted, restless ghosts….

Eventually, Kal went to stand in his corner without Lex directing him to. He no longer bothered to try and make eye contact after Lex made it plain he didn't want that. He seemed smaller than when he'd first awakened, dimmer. Lex refused to see. He ignored him, took no notice that he seemed to shrink, that his ocean eyes grew murky, that the rare words Kal spoke rustled like dry leaves. He spent so much time not noticing these things that entire days went by in which Kal was the only thing on his mind. Kal wasting away under the tarp, his non-human humanness pressing down on Lex like…yes, like a punishment.

Night brought no rest. It seemed the evenings were darker, hotter and more unforgiving since Kal was forced into his life. Determined to ignore the cloud of bitter, confused feeling thinking about Kal brought, Lex wandered around the few small rooms, humming to himself. He unwrapped a happy memory like a precious jewel--he was remembering a time, a ballroom, with so many people, dressed in beautiful gowns, suits; the light had sparkled like diamonds against the black velvet darkness above them, glittering in a ceiling so high it was like the night sky. He closed his eyes and swept around the small floor, and imagined that night, and swooping around the marble dance floor, a beautiful person wrapped in his arms and feeling—powerful knowing he owned every single one of those beautiful people….

The people that had laughed behind their hands, or pretended shock and disgust, at his trial. Lex abruptly hit the ground.

"Empty…empty. All my pleasures were empty." He lay on his back, and sighed. Alone. He loosened that ties on the green pants, and slid a hand inside, and cupped his growing erection. Alone…always alone except for one brief shining moment, one point in time that only this way could he admit, it was the best time in his life….

~~oOo~~


	6. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….

They worked on the camp perimeter together, in silence, the kind of silence that made the word "uncomfortable" seem an infinitely inadequate way to describe what Lex was feeling. Kal was silent at all times now, watched Lex eat, in silence, watched him walk nightly into the hut and close the door behind him, silently. Lex began to sing non-stop in his head, filling all the quiet spaces in his mind with babble and song and pointless streams of disjointed numbers and words and finally when voices began to speak to him again, when that one voice began to berate and castigate him again, point out how self-defeating his stubbornness was, how it was Lex's downfall over and over—Lex decided they needed a larger project. A more ambitious project, one that would consume every thinking part of his brain, one that would silence that all too vocal dragon in his mind.

Lex had a cunning plan.

They began to widen a pool out of a section split off from the stream. They dug out silt and rock to make a deeper basin where the water could collect, because the shower Lex had rigged up from the parts so kindly provided in the supply drop, was never going to be as satisfying as submerging to his neck in water. It would be cold water of course, but still…Lex shuddered. To have the luxury to scrub and scrub without worrying the water would exhaust itself before he was thoroughly clean….

It was hard work, and it did just what Lex hoped it would—exhaust himself so completely that dealing with Kal and his looming, all-consuming silence became an impossibility. He dragged himself to bed nightly, and what Kal did he had no idea or concern. Those dull green eyes didn't bother Lex in the least, the crimped thinned lips never intruded on a single thought and Lex certainly had no energy left to touch himself—barely had the energy left to fall into his bed.

The day the pool was finally completed, Kal shocked Lex to his core by leaping in with a wild whoop. The look on the construct's face when the cool water rolled over him could only be described as pleasure. Pleasure, pure and simple. And of course, it hadn't really occurred to Lex before that moment that Kal would be able to experience pleasure like that.

Kal completely gave himself over to the pleasure of swimming in the cool water. He stroked back and forth across the small pool, staring fascinated at the waves he churned up. Lex watched him do it and thought that Kal had forgotten he was there, and was just…enjoying himself. Kal swam to the edge and actually started when he saw Lex. He almost smiled, before dropping his eyes. He said, "Forgive me, but…it's very nice in the water, sir, wouldn't you like to come in, too?" He glanced upwards, and his eyes were that clear ocean green again, and for a moment, he looked so hopeful, almost pleading.

Lex turned on his heel and stalked back to Camp Luthor, shut himself up in his Flintstone House, and burrowed into his bed, and refused--*refused* to dream, or think. He lay in the darkness and barely breathed.

The next morning, Kal was sitting on a crate, under the tarp, eyes fixed on the point that the sun rose. He didn't look left or right, his face was a blank mask. He was exactly as Lex had ordered him to be. He was nothing.

They worked, again in the silence that grew more and more oppressive, until Lex wished desperately there was a way to undo this thing of his making, this silence that was becoming a frantically growing itch under his skin. Lex wanted to let it go, he did. It was just. It felt like breaking to even think about letting it go, wanting to was going against a lifetime of being trained not to break.

  


~~oOo~~

Something was happening.

Something began to change. The more Lex fought against what he thought of as breaking, the more Kal seemed to sense—something, a change. Lex slowly came to see that Kal's silence had shifted; it was less machine-like. It was deeper but also seemed less forced; he looked…patient. Endlessly, deeply patient.

Day after day, Kal wore the sort of look that Lex had used to wear, those times his father had questioned about his daily performance, questioned him about his lack of friends, because being friendless denoted a lack of leadership—conversely, any incipient friendships were questioned and destroyed, as reaching outside family denoted weakness--

That look on Kal's face, hopeless and hopeful at once, made Lex shiver.

And then finally a day came, where breaking and not breaking made no difference. Lex sat outside his Flintstone doorway, fixed Kal with a look. "Come here."

"Sir? How can I help you?" He stood instantly, his eyes fixed on some point between Lex's collarbones and chin.

"Oh…fuck. Just. Come keep me company."

An expression of surprise washed over the construct's face before he quickly came to sit next to Lex, at his feet. He looked up at Lex, expectant and hopeful. Lex remembered weaving stories about saints, and kings and trials of heroes, they tumbled through his mind before he regained control…"Good job on…ah…the weeding…um, Kal." Lex managed to get out, almost stuttered. "Tomatoes seem to like it here. They…yes…" he stumbled to a finish and went quiet.

Kal blushed, pleased with praise. Dark rose flushed his cheekbones first and then his mouth and spread lower to tint his neck. Lex watched the tide, and swallowed again, licked his lips….

Lex swore that if some miracle ever arose and he managed to get away from this god-forsaken ball of petrified shit, the first thing he'd do was hunt down Bruce Wayne and kill him slowly with his bare hands.

It was a very pleasing thought.

~~oOo~~

Past the perimeter of camp Luthor, the rangy spindly growth of the desert gave way to thicker bushes, and long pale grasses. The land slowly climbed until it became plain that the camp was in a shallow valley, and higher up, Lex could see what looked like the beginning of forest—rangy, coniferous-like trees, and trees with a strange, spreading shape. They hiked farther and farther out, exploring what Lex referred to as his kingdom.

Kal pointed out little mounds of flowering plants and short, thick mats of grass scattered here and there. Over the mounds flittered tiny insects that looked like butterflies, they rose in waves and resettled slowly as they made their way past them.

In the vast cloudless blue sky wheeled a flight of what looked like small feathered lizards, the flock moving as one in one direction and then another, and Kal ran under them, keeping pace with them, laughing. Lex loved the sheer enjoyment shining from his face, Kal's enthusiasm. Their exploration had the feel of a pleasant afternoon's nature-hike, all because of Kal's seemingly endless capacity for joy. Lex found himself smiling, too, enjoying Kal's energy, his enjoyment. He watched Kal run on a bit ahead, and wondered. The information printed on the crate's lid had said that interacting with the constructs helped them develop a fuller personality. He wondered who was learning from whom….

Kal swept around and waved wildly at him, before running off again. It was truly eerie how much Kal reminded him of Clark—a more physical, less reserved and controlled Clark. A Clark who smiled and laughed loud and hard….

Kal swung back towards him, holding his hands out. "Look!" It was a flower, a not particularly interesting one at that. Kal came up to him; the flower cupped in both his hands and said, "Isn't it—oh!" Understanding rose in his eyes, and he smiled sadly. "I'm sorry you can't see it, but there are colors…colors I can’t describe in this. It's so pretty."

Lex felt a pang of jealousy before trying to appear interested for Kal. Kal searched his face and then smiled. "But not as pretty as you, there's nothing that is prettier than you, sir."

Lex shook his head, scowled a bit. "Don't call me that."

Kal's face…crumbled. His eyes darkened and it was horrible, the pain—and then nothing, a blank slate--but why?

Lex was torn, confused. He'd done something to hurt Kal, but he was trying to be nice and something had gone wrong, just like always. And then he finally woke. He knew exactly what had happened, he'd pushed Kal to the limit and beyond, without meaning to.

Kal was stiff as a statue and the flower was at his feet, and the gold of his skin had gone pale and waxy. "I'm sorry. I can stop talking—"

"No!" Lex jerked at the sound of his own voice, "No," he said again, not as loud, as frantic. "I didn't mean—I meant don't call me sir. Call me Lex…or complete idiot if you like."

Color rose in Kal's cheeks again, his smile returned, not as brilliant—but there, nevertheless. "Complete Idiot is a bit formal, isn't it?"

Lex's mouth dropped open, his eyebrows rose…"Oh my god—you're making jokes?"

Kal's smile faded away, though his eyes were as intense as when he'd brought the flower to him. "I can do a number of things, Lex. If you'd let me." He dropped his head in what was almost a bow and turned back to the trail they'd cleared.

Lex watched the long line of Kal's back retreating from him. His mouth was still open, and he closed it with a snap. "Kal…?" he whispered. He shook his head. There was no way, no way to ask, no way to begin to ask. Better to ignore…whatever the hell that was.

~~oOo~~


	7. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….

Ignoring it was certainly easier in the cartoon bright light of the afternoon—it was another matter all together in the velvet black of the night, heat puddling everywhere, in the crook of his elbow, the crease of his neck, the folds of his eyes…every slight touch, the slight shift of the sheets, twist of the fabric over his groin made him hard. The memory of Kal's eyes—bright, hot, full of knowledge he didn’t think Kal had--now, the possibilities kept him up at night. He sweat, and imagined Kal sliding over him, wet and hot, his mouth searching out the points that made Lex tremble. Kal's mouth on the crease of his thigh, right below the curve of his ass—biting a little, just the way Lex liked…Lex curved one hand around his dick and reached back to touch himself with the other and let out a low, shaky breath, traced the tight ring, and pressed just enough, to swallow up the tip of his finger. It made him groan, it always made him groan, that first touch…

Lex shivered, he imagined Kal chuckling a little, knowing what it did to him, then following with a kiss, and another finger, to hold him open, lick and suck and make him wet, soft….

Lex grunted in surprise, orgasm boiled through him without warning. He ended curled in the center of his bed, panting, sweat and come gleaming on his skin…he dragged his hand over himself, wiped it on the sheet…was this something Kal would want? Could he desire to do something like this?

If Lex asked him, would he be able to refuse?

Lex slept deep and long, woke feeling uneasy, and tired. He dragged himself out of bed and outside to the shower. He jerked back in shock when Kal turned to him with a smile—sitting under his corner of the tarp shaded work area…"Oh! Kal—" Fuck. He'd left him…"Kal. Tonight, you sleep inside, all right?"

Kal stood. "Thank you. I'd like that."

"We can…can make a couch in the kitchen and you can stay there…" Lex stopped, blinked…"Do--do you sleep?"

Kal nodded, his sincere expression making Lex's head hurt... "Yes, if I choose. I need some time…asleep. Not much, though."

"Yes, that's a lot like Clark. He doesn't need much sleep either." Lex stopped and glanced at Kal, a flush warming his neck and scalp. "I was sort of a student of Clark," he said, with a rueful smile. Kal nodded, and Lex was so wrapped up in his own sudden attack of memories, he never thought to question why Kal seemed to know who he was speaking of.

  
That morning they had breakfast together.

Or rather, Lex ate breakfast while Kal watched as though it was the cleverest thing Lex had ever done. After a bit, Lex stopped trying to snatch secret little glances of Kal and just stared. They smiled at each other throughout the meal, and Lex felt the most comfortable he'd had in years and years. There was something about gazing at Kal, and having him look back…his mind pulled up an old, old memory, almost certainly made sweeter with the passage of time, but. It was one of his favorites. It had been in the farmhouse's kitchen--he'd found Clark and Martha, standing nose to nose, so to speak, in the early morning light coloring the room, arguing about how much sugar to put in the pancake batter. Lex had quietly stood off to one side and watched them 'argue' and he hadn't felt jealous, or covetous…he'd felt lucky to be there. Lucky to be part of it, no matter how brief the moment. And Clark had turned and smiled at him, winked, and it had felt like more than sharing a joke—it'd felt like love.

And of course, it hadn't lasted, and it hadn’t been enough for him and Lex regretted bitterly what his twenty-two year old self had been willing to throw away.

Kal beamed, he looked as if just being with Lex was enough to make him happy. Lex didn't even care that Kal had no choice in the matter—that he was made to want Lex's happiness. This time, Lex was not going to examine it, to try and take the feeling apart, try and take Kal apart. He was going to live in it—enjoy it, and make it the pleasure it could be, instead of the punishment he suspected his jailors had planned Kal to be.

~~oOo~~

 _"It happened one day, about noon, going towards my boat, I was exceedingly surprised with the print of a man's naked foot on the shore, which was very plain to be seen on the sand. I stood like one thunderstruck, or as if I had seen an apparition. I listened, I looked round me, but I could hear nothing, nor see anything; I went up to a rising ground to look farther; I went up the shore and down the shore, but it was all one; I could see no other impression but that one. I went to it again to see if there were any more, and to observe if it might not be my fancy; but there was no room for that, for there was exactly the print of a foot - toes, heel, and every part of a foot,"_ Lex read aloud, and Kal sighed. "It's a wonderful story. It's a little like your story, isn't it?"

Lex's lips thinned and he closed the book. "Except for the part where he didn't eliminate millions of people and destroy an entire planet for the good of the many, yes, it is like my story."

Kal was silent for a long time, his pink cheeks even pinker while he thought. "What you did was wrong," he said at last, and Lex raised his eyebrows.

"I—yes. No." He huffed and collapsed on the bench next to Kal. "I don’t know what to think anymore, about myself, about what I did."

Kal touched Lex's arm, slid his hand down to curl around Lex's wrist, a gentle move that made Lex shudder. Kal caught Lex's eyes and said," Yes, you do. You regretted it the minute it happened, and blamed yourself before the judges did. You think you don't care but you do."

"You have no idea what I'm like. You have no choice but to think the best of me. You were made that way."

Kal stared. "You think I have no self-will? You think I'm just a toy."

Lex was already beginning to be uncertain—Kal's reactions weren’t exactly those of programmable robot. He looked rather…fierce.

"I'm more than that. For you, I'm much more than that. I have choices, Lex Luthor, and right now, I choose to be someplace you are not."

Lex watched Kal stalk off and all he could think of was just how fucking hot Kal was, loosing his temper. Lex blinked. Kal had just had a royal snit and chose to leave him without asking permission…maybe Kal had choices…but…were they real choices? Could he take what he wanted for himself?"

"Kal, Kal, wait! I'm sorry!" Lex blinked. Sorry…the word barely sounded real coming from himself. He was, though. He was so very sorry about a million things but he couldn't bring himself to think about the disaster his life had grown to be now. There was too much, it was too much to think about.

~~oOo~~


	8. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….

Lex felt vaguely idiotic—during the time he'd spent on this rock, he'd never hurt himself. He'd almost become an entrée, yes--he'd made himself miserable, true, but hurt himself due to careless stupidity? He was still torn between embarrassment and pain….

He hadn't even given a thought to climbing the hill, it was barely higher than his head, but one wrong step, and it'd felt as if the sand turned liquid--he'd twisted his weak ankle and slid all the way back down, caroming off rocks and sharp twigged shrubs that the hill surely hadn't possessed when he'd started climbing it. Kal found him hobbling away from his landing site, and decided he'd have to carry Lex home; Kal had scolded him all the way.  
It was a little like old, old times.

By the time they'd returned to the Flintstone House, his ankle had been throbbing wildly, and he was bruised and achy. He'd laughed about it, especially after a nice handful of little yellow pills for pain….

"Genius, really. Oh my God…." A sound bubbled out of his throat—a laugh, a manly, mature laugh, definitely not a giggle. "I look like twenty year old Lex after a night out." He turned and hissed with the pain of abused muscles. "Shit…not nearly as much fun at this age…."

Kal stood in the bedroom doorway, frowning. "It's not funny Lex. You could have hurt yourself—worse than this, I mean."

"Shhh, Kal. It's nothing. Stings a little, that's all. I'm fine. This," he gestured the length of himself, "—used to be much worse after a good night out."

Kal's beautiful mouth thinned. "I don't like to think of you hurting yourself on purpose," he said quietly, and Lex stopped grinning.

"I don't like to think of it either," he confessed. "I don't like that me very much."

Kal came closer. "Can I help?"

Lex grimaced and limped to the bed, "Well, if you were a masseur, that would be an enormous help."

Kal lit up. "But I can do that—I can massage you. The information we need is here," he said and pointed at his temple.

Lex stared and groaned. "Oh, of course it is," he muttered, and dropped in careful increments to the mattress. "Of course. Why don't I just lie down here, and with any luck, pass out?"

Kal walked away, and Lex had settled himself comfortably as possible on the bed by the time he came back with a small bottle of what had to be cooking oil. Lex almost told him not to waste the oil before coming to his senses. Kal climbed in after him, plucked at his shirt. "Ah, we need to take this off," he said and Lex moaned.

"You really can't want me to get up again? That's too cruel."

Kal wheedled and poked and prodded until Lex was lying on the bed covered only by a towel and flushing with the memories of tons of schoolboy porn. Kal acted like the whole thing was beyond amusing.

Lex growled, "I'm naked and injured and you're making fun of me—is that fair?"

"Really, Lex—I'm not making fun of anything. You're very fit and attractive."

Lex muttered into the pillow, "You have to say that," and hissed as Kal ran his hands from the nape of his neck to the small of his back.

"You're very tense. I'll try to loosen you up. I'll be gentle."

"Fuck," Lex told his pillow. Fuck and fuck again. He could feel small muscles quiver, wondered if he'd pass out from lack of blood to the brain. Kal started at his shoulders, rubbing his hands into knots of muscle and murmuring quietly. "You hold a lot of tension. You know, when you walk, you stiffen all your muscles. You didn't use to walk that way."

"How would you know?" Lex wondered how much information they'd programmed Kal with before shipping him to planet Hell. He started to turn, to ask Kal, and Kal gently pushed him down. Lex just managed to keep from gasping out loud.

"Relax, please. I know because I'm made to know many things about you." Lex knew that, but the constant evidence that Kal had no real choice in what he felt made his chest feel hollow. "How you looked, your background, all of that was written into me. I know you Lex. I care about you."

Kal seemed almost proud of being programmed into Lex's toy. It made Lex feel vaguely nauseous and as Kal's hands worked in wider swoops across his body, made his skin feel warmer, arousal and nausea were almost hand in hand. Why couldn't he just let it go? Why did he have to dig and dig?

Kal was working the oil into Lex's skin, slowly. He stroked and kneaded and drew moans from Lex. His hands felt enormous on Lex's back, felt warm and safe and he really wanted to hate it but…a small groan creaked out of his lips. Felt so good.

Kal's breathing was steady as he pushed and pressed, his warm hands working slowly and carefully down the injured leg. Kal worked around his ankle, working warmth into the muscle and then, up again, higher and higher up his leg until Lex was holding his breath, biting his lip and hanging between the sensation of melting and being wrung tight as a wire. Kal's knuckles brushed his balls and Lex bit down on a moan, unable to twitch the way he wanted to, afraid to move his legs wider to give Kal access….

Kal's voice was in his ear. "Do you like this?" His knuckles dragged slow and gentle across his balls. "More?" His hands moved away, and Lex protested. "Yes, more," Kal said, and his thumbs rubbed circles into the soft swell of Lex's ass, drifting lightly into and out of the cleft.

"Don't…" Lex mumbled. "Don’t do it, don't…."

Kal laughed softly. "You don’t mean that," and ran his thumbs down his cleft and held him open. Before Lex could protest, Kal's tongue, hot and soft, dragged right over him. Lex was so far gone that for a moment, he thought that he'd come, the feeling had been so incredibly intense. The heat, the moisture of Kal's mouth wiped nearly everything from his mind except the need for more. For everything. All the things he'd denied himself for…for centuries, it felt like. Still--

"Kal. Don't. I don't want you to do this. I don't want to do this." Lex almost laughed. Here he was, face down on the bed, moaning into his arms, burning and shaking like he had a fever and begging Kal not to take things further. _oh, without a doubt, you didn’t want this._ "I don't, I don't…."

Kal sat back, and Lex immediately mourned the loss of all that mouth, that silky skin. "Lex. You do want this, I can see that you do--*Lex*." Kal's eye was suddenly in Lex's line of sight, big and green and so—it made Lex want to laugh, that eye, until Kal spoke. "Oh—oh! You think I can't say no. You're thinking that this, is because I'm programmed to…yes, in a way I am. But I don’t *have* to. Not in the way you think. I'm not a toaster, Lex, and you haven't asked me for anything."

Lex sputtered, "But if I did—you—you would have to! You can't disobey me." Lex stopped. This was the sort of thing that could only happen to him—a discussion of autonomy, buck naked and hard, (though that condition was rapidly changing)—with an unbelievably beautiful boy who seemed to have been made just for *him*. What was more, he was feeling *guilt* for considering—for wanting to have sex—with. With someone who might not have a choice in the matter…and when the fuck had that happened?

He was certain he was going insane. Completely…totally…fucking…insane.

The unbelievably beautiful boy leaned into his neck and in a voice laced with amused sarcasm, said, "Not a hammer. Not a sex slave." Kal pressed a kiss between his shoulder blades and his voice warmed, became a sweet breath against his ear. "Companion, Lex. We're made to be pleasing, not allow ourselves to be broken. You can't hurt me." Kal's hands were a gentle pressure on his ribs, stroking in slow circles as he spoke. "It gives me great pleasure to make you happy. Isn't that the way it's supposed to be?"

  
Lex wanted to believe it, wanted it terribly. Kal took his silence as permission to continue. Lex settled back into the pillow and let Kal do…what he wanted.

"Pretty," Kal murmured, stroked his hand over the swell of Lex's ass. Lex bit his lip at the feel of Kal's dick, bloodwarm and heavy, a welcome weight drawing streaks of precome along the inside of his thigh. Lex squeezed his eyes closed, afraid to look, afraid to break the illusion that this was real. He'd ask later, he wanted to know, but at the moment, all he really wanted was to let go—drown himself in the sensation of Kal slowly easing oil-slick fingers inside him, making his heart race and his chest burn. It felt like he was harder than he'd ever been in his life, that Kal pushing him against those rough ugly sheets would be all it took to make him come.

"Tell me, Lex. Tell me what you want."

Lex moaned, long and loud, and spread his legs wide, wider until the muscles burned. He pushed himself against the sheets. "You know, you know what I want—"

"Tell me—"

"God. Fuck me, all right? I want you to--please."

Kal went silent, still and then, began pushing inside, slowly—the crown of his dick hanging on the rim of Lex's hole, rubbing slow and gentle until it opened. Lex moaned loud as Kal sank inside him. The slide in was like…like he was opening to sensations deeper than he'd ever believed possible. It was hot and…hard…and hurt but he knew the pain was inconsequential, fleeting, and that it would feel like heaven the moment Kal began to move…it did. It did, feel good. Felt amazing. Waves of heat and pure pleasure swept over him, made him shiver and shake and call out, to God, to Kal, and then it was just sound tumbling out, muffled against the sheets. Dick pressed tight against his belly, jerking with the pleasure he felt, sliding in his own slick. He fucked against the bed searching for release, lost in it. All he knew was Kal's heavy heat splitting him, coring the heart out of him.

"It's good, isn't it Lex, feels so good. Makes me feel good." Kal's hand circled Lex's shoulders, tight to the point of just perfect. "I'm close, Lex, now—"

Kal's orgasm was silent, just a shuddering arch against him, a tightening of his hands, a small shocked gasp in Lex's ear, but it might as well have been a shout, Kal might as well have howled and crushed him against the bed, the effect it had on Lex. Lex lost all sense of anything but the tightness in his groin spreading through him so hot and so fast it was almost painful but altogether amazing—he came into his sheets, rode the crest of pleasure for what seemed forever until he crashed, face down, covered with sweat, his ass and thighs aching, his ankle throbbing and it should have been painful. Except he felt amazing. Blown apart, weightless—amazing. He was smiling, he was wet and sticky, the bed was ruined and he was happy. Happy.

Kal pulled out as gently as he could, soothed his hand over the small of Lex's back before rolling to his side next to Lex. Made to kiss him—and Lex jerked back, the dream-like aftershocks evaporating. "Wait!" An expression of hurt surprise flashed over Kal's face before he just looked concerned. Lex grit his teeth. "I—look, I just don't want to break the illusion."

"Illusion?" Kal turned Lex's face towards him. "What—"

Lex flushed. "If you kiss me…your mouth. Will it be like mine?" Lex asked and Kal looked puzzled for a second—and then smiled. He took Lex's finger.

"Yes. I think so." He drew the tip into his mouth, and sucked. The smooth and rough feeling as Kal sucked harder, lapped his tongue around Lex's finger made Lex groan. It was real. Felt real, looked real, he thought as Kal obviously licked from the base of his index finger to the tip, and swirled his glistening tongue over the nail….

"Fuck! Okay, I get it. Oh my god…"

Kal sat back and smirked.

"But…I have some questions yet," Lex panted and Kal rolled his eyes, slumped down next to Lex.

"Lex. How am I not surprised?"

~~oOo~~


	9. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….

Evening fell, and little lamps scattered here and there around the room came to life--lit, they made the inside Flintstone House glow like ivory. Kal took up most of the couch, sprawled comfortably as he read. The ivory light made his skin glow, his hair gleamed blacker than night. Lex studied him from the table he sat at. These days when he looked, all he saw was Kal. Kal, sweet and gentle and patient, incredibly patient. He sighed, leaned his chin in his hand and just enjoyed watching Kal.

Who could have imagined the best thing that could ever have happened to him was exile?

"You're watching me, aren't you?" Kal smirked, and looked up. Lex instantly closed the notebook he was scribbling in and tried to look casual. "And you're still thinking about hiking out to the mountain range?" His smile faded to a worried frown.

"Yes to both, and I wish you'd stop worrying." He waved his hands in irritation. "You know I have a valid point, Kal. We need a project—idle hands, blah, blah. And as much as I enjoy the thought of passing the time with non-stop sex—" he rolled his eyes at Kal's truly awful attempt at a leer—"we should see what else is this planet has to offer. What if there's a—a better place somewhere out there? And what if…what if they never come back?"

"Lex…as long as we're together, we'll be okay, I'm sure of it. I suppose it does make sense to explore--"

Lex leaned forward and asked Kal in all seriousness, "Can you fly?"

Kal's mouth dropped open and he looked genuinely puzzled, and then slowly, annoyed--amused. "No. I can't. Or set fire with my eyes or do anything that your mind is conjuring up right now. I do what I can because I was built to--the nanites allow me to. Those machines allow me to heal quickly, to be stronger than you. Not _'super'_ human."

"But my ankle--you told me you could see the damage—you can see through objects—"

"Lex, you misunderstood. I could see the very obvious damage you'd done to yourself at the time. You projected what you wanted on to me." Kal came very close to pouting. "You're really infuriating, you know?"

Lex closed his eyes. "I did it again. It's a terrible habit that I'm sure I've conquered every time…until I do it again." He opened his eyes again to find Kal at his feet, said, "I'm sorry. You know I love you." The words came so easy, so fluid and natural, that it took a moment for his brain to discover what his mouth had let loose….

Kal laid his head on Lex's knee. "I'm so happy to hear you say that. You don't know what it means to me."

Lex was silent as his mind screamed up and down the scales of _oh god—he's not even human_ to _neither was Clark and you loved him_ , to _but he's a machine_ to, _he's magic, is what he is. He's magical, the answer to all your prayers and you love him so suck it up and fucking get over it._ He thought that was the best advice he'd ever given himself--he exhaled in relief, ignoring the small voice at the back of his head that whispered, 'It's not like anyone will ever know, after all.'

It was true. Lex had made his peace with dying on this rock without ever seeing anyone else but Kal and that, that was fine with him. Became more so every day.

Kal looked up at him. "Lex…" he smoothed huge hot hands over Lex's thighs. "Let me?"

Lex swallowed. "I want to. First." Kal seemed about to protest but he stood and his hands came to rest behind Lex's neck. "I love touching you; your skin is like silk. How I imagine silk would feel." Lex breathed against Kal's hip as he stroked his thumbs at the base of Lex's skull, drew them upwards to the crown of Lex's head. He pressed a kiss there. "So delicate, silk and porcelain, Lex, that's what you are. And under this delicate shell of bone, works the most irritating mind in all the known worlds."

Lex huffed. "Delicate is hardly the word I'd use to describe myself…and you find it very attractive when I'm annoying."

Kal nodded, smiled as if Lex had uncovered a secret of his, his hands cupping Lex's face, smoothing his thumbs over his eyebrows—petting him, and Lex leaned into it—loved it.

Lex gnawed on Kal's hipbone, sucked quickly fading bruises in the cut of his hip, traced loops over creamy smooth skin with his tongue. Under the cover of the green shorts he wore, Kal's dick thickened, lifted the fabric away, grew dark where the tip rested. Lex mouthed that spot, licking and nipping gently. Kal swayed, slowly rocked his hips against Lex's open mouth--between the two of them, they soaked the fabric of the shorts. Lex eased them down and took Kal's dick in his hand. The rose-flushed head leaked over his hand; dripped down Lex's wrist…he lapped it up, twisted his mouth around the tip and sucked hard.

He'd had to get used to some changes. Kal rarely ate or drank, didn't really sleep like he did…and sex, there were changes there too, though less than he'd expected. Kal flushed and sweat during sex, leaked precome enthusiastically but didn't ejaculate—not like Lex did. Lex might be able to come up with plenty of reasons why this was so—but he didn't care. He let himself see that Kal seemed to enjoy whatever they did together, the way Kal panted, moaned at his touch—shuddered and came just like Lex did, and after, looked as dazed and fucked out as Lex did.

Lex's gaze traveled up Kal's body, past his trembling stomach, his frantically working chest, to his head, tilted back, the pulse in his throat throbbing in time with the pulse in his dick. He shivered, bared his teeth and came with a soft cry, pumping slow in and out of Lex's mouth. Lex licked his lips and pulled off just as slowly, reluctant to let Kal go. He wiped his chin and swallowed the faintly salt-sweet saliva mix in his mouth. It took getting used to, this nothing to swallow, just a bit of pre-come and spit... Kal shuddered again and with a huge sigh he sank to his knees. "Lex…" He curved over Lex's dick, and Lex felt Kal's warm lips on the head, the tip of Kal's tongue barely touch.

"Kal, don't tease--open your mouth, please," he begged.

Kal's breath washed over him, fueling a heated flush. He said, "It's not you I'm teasing," and then, slowly sank down on his dick, moaning all the while…Lex loved when Kal opened up and he slid into his throat.

"Kal. Jesus." *This*, no one else could give him this.

  


~~oOo~~

  
Hideous and practically indestructible sheets could actually be made into a rather nice hammock, and a hammock tucked under the tarp porch was a wonderful resting place at the end of the day—right before the night grew chill, but after the air gave up trying to mummify them.

Kal lay on his side, nestled into Lex, apparently counting the numerous god-awful freckles the sun had afflicted him with. His skin was a mess—he was a solid mass of Howdy-Doody type freckles, little orange dots spattering him from head to toe….

"Lex, stop complaining. I like them. They make your eyes look bluer—"

"My eyes are grey."

"Blue. And don't argue with me. Or I'll stop counting," Kal threatened, his fingertip resting on a copper nipple. "And tasting," he said, and his tongue swept around the rapidly pebbling flesh.

"God—you're evil. All together the evilest thing, besides myself, on Notearth."

The hammock swung lazily under the shift of their weight. Kal threw a long brown leg over Lex's pink and freckled one. "Notearth? You're a genius. That's the best you could come up with?"

Lex enjoyed the back and forth with Kal—he enjoyed the arguments, he enjoyed making up. Kal was stubborn, argumentative and sometimes downright abrasive. He rather liked it. It made for lively, eventful days that flew by--Lex barely noted the evolution of Kal's personality and after a while, took no notice of it at all.

Kal was Kal, his friend and his lover.

~~oOo~~

After spirited discussion, and arguments that hadn't quite descended to unarmed combat, he'd finally convinced Kal that a trip to the base of the mountain range wouldn't kill them. With sufficient preparation it shouldn't be difficult at all.

Of course, Kal had tried to convince Lex to let him go alone. He'd pointed out quite logically and correctly that he'd be able to do it without food, little water, and little sleep. He'd be able to map out a wider area and do it faster than Lex and he could together.

The thought had been--like being drowned in freezing oil and set aflame. Lex couldn't begin to imagine days and days without Kal, with no means of communication, alone, more alone than he'd been in the beginning, because now he'd been graced with the perfect companion and the thought of being alone again was…was terrifying. Was unimaginable.

Kal had given up the moment he'd seen the distress that Lex couldn't hide.

"I'll never ever leave you, I promise. Nothing on…on Notearth could keep me from you," he'd said and Lex believed him.

And now that that their selected departure time was drawing close, Kal was constantly busy. He buzzed about from one end of Camp Luthor to the other, happily packing, until Lex had complained that until Kal had somehow managed to put himself in charge of planning, he'd never actually known what 'anal retentive' meant. Kal had gently suggested that perhaps now would be a good time for Lex to take a stroll. A long stroll. So, Lex had decided it was the perfect time to disappear for a bit and let Kal revel in his oh so very precise and detailed plans.

He wandered down to the defunct transport platform, idly thinking there might be something of use there before they started out on their epic journey. He adjusted the cap Kal insisted he wear and smiled to himself.

 _Epic._ He snorted. At least he had Kal to make sure that he'd come back in one piece….

~~oOo~~

For the first time in months, Lex was standing in front of the platform that had brought him here to exile. The shimmer that he'd remembered surrounding it was gone— sand was piled up against the sides of the low platform, laid in drifts across the floor. It looked dead. There was no sense of the power he remembered the thing having, like a weapon waiting to be used. Still, Lex walked at a distance around the platform site, remembering how it had protected itself from him the last time he'd attempted to examine it.

After a few long minutes of consideration, Lex turned his back on it. He didn't give a shit if it ever powered up again. There wasn't a damn thing he needed from the Commonwealth. As far as Lex was concerned, he had it all.

There was nothing left at the site that was of interest or looked to be useful. Just a few empty crates and nothing more than that. A flight of the jewel-like, little flying lizards that entranced Kal so much, followed him as he trudged back up the ridge towards Camp. The chirping noises they made nearly masked another, unfamiliar noise, rising behind him—that noise, and with it, an odd smell in the air. The buzzing, crackling noise grew louder as he whirled about. What he saw stopped him in his tracks.

The platform was alive again, the air was full of the sand that had nearly covered it; the crackling noise was sand vaporizing. Lights raced around its edge, the shimmer was there again. "What the hell…"

The sky above the platform ripped and out of it, men appeared, blinking rapidly in the acid bright light he'd long gotten used to. There was a man with them Lex recognized. The first group that had dropped him had been led by that man.

The man's eyes widened when he saw Lex, he looked stunned—and pleased.

"Mr. Luthor--Lex. Thank goodness you're still—still here--" as if Lex could have flapped his arms and flown away. "I've got good news—great news! You've been pardoned. All the exiles are being returned home. Stuff—happened. Has been happening. We'll explain… anyway, this kind of imprisonment's been abolished. You're coming home—back to Earth."

Lex gaped for a moment, his brain stuttering through the information, and then…like he'd never taken it off, he drew the persona of Lex Luthor, Lionel's son, around himself like armor. He drawled, "So—I go back with you and spend the rest of my life in a jail cell on Earth?"

"No," the guy grinned, "When we say you're pardoned we mean pardon—totally. You're free, Lex—oh, and there's this." He placed a purple cube in the center of Lex's palm--an official seal was locked over the top. Lex hesitated, and then cracked the seal. Inside the box was a messenger. Lex lifted it out, and noticed it had a thumb seal. Set just for him, than. He pressed it and an image blurred into existence--the heavy browed, thick-snouted visage of the Council president. He sat behind his desk, looking harried and worn and angry and impressive. Lex had never met the being in person but there was no doubt, this was the real deal….

Without introduction or pretence at being sociable, the president spoke. "We need you, Lex. We need your ability….We need your genius. Your help. The war is going…badly. We are prepared to offer you whatever you require for your assistance. You are of course pardoned. You are a full citizen of the Commonwealth once more; everything that was yours has been returned to you. Welcome home."

None of the things that had been his had importance now. None of what the president had said stood out except his plea for Lex's help. Lex didn't feel vindicated, he wasn't amused. What he saw was the opportunity to absolve some of his guilt. He could repay the Commonwealth.

He turned to the man and said, "Thank you. Let me call Kal. We have a few things we'll want to take, but other than that, I'm sure we can be ready quickly."

"Kal?"

"My—my—companion? You know…."

"Your—" The man's eyebrows rose, he looked at Lex with surprise "—right, right—I forgot about the struct. I'm sorry Lex, but we have to leave right now. The invaders are getting worse everyday. All of us, everywhere, are being called back to the galaxy. We're knocking out all the platforms leading to Earth. The struct will be fine. It'll shut down a few days after you're gone, probably." He turned to the others. "Let's go—we're running out of time."

Lex rocked under a wave of emotion—leave Kal, alone—alone on this god-forsaken ball of dirt? Fuck that—"I'm not leaving Kal. Kal! Kal!" He shouted at the top of his lungs, dove to the edge of the platform….

The sun grew suddenly brighter and then dark—the blackness was filled with fireflies and the smell of lightning. Lex dropped to the ground, his head swimming crazily.

"I'm sorry," he heard, and the voice did sound rather casually sorry, "but I have my orders. We really have to go *now*."

Lex couldn't focus past the thundering pain in his head, the bands of steel wrapped around his chest keeping him from drawing real breath. He felt his weight shift and tilt--he was being dragged. He couldn't lift his head, his shouts had become mumbles in his mouth, but he thought, hoped, he was screaming for Kal….

"Lex?"

Lex was shifted in his captor's grip. Through the painful haze, he thought he saw Kal at the top of the ridge that led to camp. He could see, through a blurry veil, the men not holding him were doing something at the platform's edge. He head Kal shout his name, his voice colored with fear and anger, for him--the next thing he saw was a blinding bloom of red and yellow.

He was still trying to scream for Kal when everything went black.

~~oOo~~


	10. The Lonely

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lex Luthor destroyed one world and crippled another for the sake of humanity. Of course humanity was incapable of understanding the gift he'd given them. Now he was sentenced to pay the price, a lifetime on his very own planet, without the company of other human beings….

_In this part, Lex thinks hard about his life. Questions are not answered, loose threads are not tied up neatly, but this is the end…._

  
The air over what was left of the platform shimmered with colors only Kal could see. Bits of debris fell back to the ground, hot metal and glass bounced off Kal's skin, burning him. Kal took no notice—his eyes were fixed on the spot he'd watched Lex disappear. It took long, long seconds before he could process what had happened. Lex was gone. Logic told him Lex was gone and never coming back but…he couldn't move. A crazy, hopeless but still hoping, part of him thought that if he waited long enough Lex would come back….

There were options open to him, Kal thought. He could wait. He could wait nearly forever, as long as the sun shone, until he slowly wore out. He could power down into a kind of endless sleep to wait, past even the loss of the sun until…he wore out. Or, he could find some way to shut himself off completely. It was supposed to be impossible, but no one had had the kind of teacher he'd had….

The sun fell and rose again before Kal finally walked back to Camp Luthor, having made his choice.

Without Lex—what was he?

Without their companion, what was any construct? Kal dropped his head, watched his feet scuff through the sand. He could find a place away from the sun and sleep…but Lex would frown, tell him he was being unnecessarily self-pitying. That giving up wasn't an option. Kal nodded thoughtfully. Lex was right. He had a duty, a purpose. He was going to wait for Lex to come back, and when he did, he'd hand Camp Luthor over to him, as perfect as when he'd been pulled away. Better. Because Kal had not one iota of doubt that Lex would return—Lex would do anything he could to come back to him.

~~oOo~~

The mountains would have to remain a mystery until Lex returned; Kal made a decision not to explore them until Lex returned. He climb the little ridge behind the camp, and looked towards them often—sometimes he'd spend hours, gazing at the mountains and reliving vivid memories.

Every day, he worked at keeping Camp Luthor functioning, it was his mission now. His entire purpose. He kept the gardens growing, kept the hedges they'd planted neat and healthy and now, they towered over Kal's head. The pool remained clean and the water flowed in and out of it, crystal clear, just the way Lex had wanted. At night, Kal read the books Lex had read aloud to him, and remembered, and loved.

  
Rain washed out of the heavens, turning everything the shade of grey Lex's eyes truly were. Kal stood under the porch he'd built to replace the weather-worn tarp that had been Flintstone House's original porch, and watched the storm rage across the sand. It whipped across the yard, throwing up splatters of water from the overwhelmed earth. Kal watched, fascinated. He knew in the morning the water would be absorbed and soon, flowers would dot the yard and hills around him—brief as flames….

There was a shift in the grey skies overhead that drew his attention from the storm, a change in color—a bright burning streak burst out of a rent in the heavy clouds and arrowed to the ground in the plain between the mountains and the area Camp Luthor sat in. It split into two—one part continuing to drop to the plains, flame dying, trailing a long plume of smoke behind it and one part rising up again and heading towards him.

It dropped straight to the ground, dropping to land not far from Kal.

It was him. After all these years, he'd come. Kal had wondered sometimes, thought that maybe he'd been forgotten—he should have known better. "Hello, Kal-El."

Kal-El came to sit next to Kal, his eyes on Kal's, his thigh pressed up against Kal's. Kal was surprised at how warm Kal-El was…at how achingly good it felt to touch another being even if it wasn't Lex. Kal-El dropped long warm fingers against the back of Kal's hand. "Hello…Kal, right?" Kal-El laughed softly and shook his head. He smiled at Kal. "Lex," he said, as if that explained all. He shook his head again, affectionate, amused, before his features settled into a sweet, slightly worried smile. "I'm sorry it took so long, but I've needed to juggle looking for you and doing my part. We took Lex back because the planets are at war."

Kal startled. "What--*you* took Lex? War? Kal-El…explain. From the beginning, please."

Kal-El took a deep breath and said, "All right…."

The sky was darker by the time Kal-El had explained to Kal's satisfaction. He was nodding as Kal-el finished, "Even though the tide is turning, it's going slowly. With Lex's help, we're winning. It's just, he never stops working. He cares too much…" Kal-El looked sad.

"But that's good," Kal interrupted. "It's what Lex needed—what you hoped would happen when you sent me here, am I right? You wanted Lex to rediscover his humanity…it worked out well then. Not quite as you planned…."

Kal-El's cheeks burned red—Kal marveled that he still had the ability to blush, considering what Kal-El had been through in his lifetime. "I just didn’t want him to be lonely. Lex doesn't do lonely well."

"Now what?" Kal asked, not wanting to think about Lex surrounded by people and still, being alone.

"I can take you back home--to the fortress. We can erase what happened here. You can remain at the fortress, or you could go on to be a companion to another with some adjustments—"

Kal made a small distressed sound, and Kal-El apologized. "I'm sorry. You're very different than most of our constructs—your experiences have been unusual, compared to that of the others at the fortress. I think…Lex is a very…strong influence."

Kal smiled. "Can you tell me if he's happy?"

Kal-El shrugged. "I don’t see Lex. He lives…elsewhere. Not on Earth."

Kal stared at Kal-El, and repeated slowly, "So…is he happy?"

Kal-El rolled his eyes, but still, he blushed. "He's—surviving. He's not sad. He keeps busy. He's very different man now, Kal. He's a man with many, many responsibilities. So many owe him their lives…he works so hard to be…" Kal-El waved his hand, trying hard to explain. "To be worthy, in a way. To…to give selflessly. It's hard to explain exactly what I mean," Kal-el huffed in exasperation. "Lex is…still Lex, just…" he shrugged.

Of course, Kal understood. He gazed about him. He knew now that Lex was never going to return to Camp Luthor, and so Camp Luthor no longer served a purpose. It was done. But Lex had come away with something wonderful, Kal hoped. Something that would keep him forever…Kal looked towards the sunrise. "Can you turn me off? When we get back to the fortress?"

"I can do that…" Kal-El looked thoughtful. "Are you ready?"

Kal nodded. "Yes. It's been a most interesting life, but I've had enough of being without Lex."

"All right. There's a transport capsule out there," Kal-el said and gestured towards the plain. "I guess…is there anything you want to take with you?" he asked.

Kal shook his head. "Nothing." he hesitated. "Well, there is a book…was book." He shook his head and spoke firmly, "Nothing I need."

"Then let's go." Kal-El swept him up. "Hold on, Kal."

~~oOo~~

The balcony that ran the length of his apartment was wide—from it he was able to see a good part of the city—the hustle and bustle of everyday life. It was a favorite place for him to take dinner, or to relax. He likes looking out across the city; he likes the reminder of why they fight—for this. For life, for the living. Selene had rebuilt rapidly when the chance came, covered over its scars of war, welcomed not only its own refuges back home but welcomed other orphans of the storm as well, like himself, Lex thought.

He lay back against the recliner and wiped his thumb over condensation on his glass, heard nothing but the tinkling sound of the tiny cubes swirling around, tapping each other. There's never anything but cold tea or fruit juice in the glasses now, Lex wanted a clear head at all times—just in case. Besides, he'd worked hard to rebuild himself, to sand away his broken edges--he was not going to fall back into the traps of his old life. At any rate, he found a lot of comfort in his new life. It was lonely, at times deeply lonely, but not in the soul-destroying way it used to be....

Lex sighed. He left the balcony and strode back into his apartment. He wasn't bitter, wasn't angry—he'd just resigned himself to being alone, grateful that this time he wasn't shouldering a towering weight of guilt and bitterness along with the loneliness. Lex wasn't fool enough to think that what he was doing to help in the war effort counted towards erasing the crimes he'd committed in his life. That would be…magical thinking. What he'd done in the past can never really be forgiven. His only choice now was to go forward, to help as much as possible.

That was how his days were spent.

His nights, the time that belonged to him alone, he spent trying to find Kal. Fantasized that some day, he'd see him again. Find the planet he'd been stranded on…Lex ignored the tiny voice that crowed in disbelief _find that one uncharted planet out of millions? foolish man --_

Millions didn't matter. He knew without a doubt, he'd find that place one day. He would unlock the mystery, and reproduce platform technology and fly until he found Kal again, he would search until he found him or die trying ….

He had another favorite fantasy—he dreamed that one day, there'd come a knock at his door, he'd go to see who it was—since it was his fantasy, there weren't the layers of security between himself and the world that his life required—it was just him, and whoever was behind the door. The door opens and it's Kal, beautiful Kal, who throws himself on Lex and cries out in relief, I've found you—found you again. Most nights, the fantasy stops there, and Lex goes smiling into sleep. It's enough to ease his heart and sooth him into dreams.

"Mr. Luthor," his secretary knocked politely on the door jamb, even though Lex always left the door open as an invitation for his subordinates, a symbol of availability they steadfastly ignored.

"Come in please, Mr. Maxwell, come in."

Maxwell paused, cleared his throat and said, "There's a visitor, sir." A rarity. Most didn't communicate with Lex in person. It was something Lex had ceased to care about. "He's been stopped in the lobby, sir…."

"Ah? Well. Who is it?"

"He won't say, but…well, here."

Maxwell handed Lex a small screen and Lex barely made out the image of a tall man with dark hair and broad shoulders on the grainy screen. His large hands skimmed his chest, drew over his hair in an apparent effort to tame the wild curls. He seemed nervous, tugged at the lapels of his outrageously ugly suit repeatedly…"Clark," Lex breathed. What was Clark doing here, he wondered. In the time since his return he hadn't heard from or seen Clark in person. Lex had only been in occasional polite communication with Superman, which lately edged towards a tentative friendliness that Lex was wary of exploring.

Clark…that was different. Clark was…not Superman.

What could possibly bring the man to Lex's place? "Mr. Maxwell, tell security to escort him to the elevator and then…I'll handle it from there."

Maxwell eyed him, obviously troubled, unsure of Lex's safety. "You're certain, Mr. Luthor?"

"Oh, this particular person would never harm me," Lex smiled. "And you know my office has sufficient protection, Mr. Maxwell. Don’t worry so much."

"If you're sure then…."

Minutes later, Lex heard the musical chime of his private elevator coming to a stop in the foyer, heard a sharp rap at the door.

"I'm coming," he called—force of habit, Clark hardly needed a shout. He opened the door. "Clark, what brings you…oh…."

Kal stood there. Kal smiled at him, Kal….

Lex's knees went weak, he felt so heavy, too heavy—and then strong hands were holding him up, lifting him--his heart flipped, raced in his chest. "How did you make it here—how long—how is it possible?" Lex shook his head hard and forced himself to breathe. "No, wait--I'm doing this all wrong," he said. He stepped forward and yanked Kal into his arms. He pressed his cheek to the pulse in Kal's throat and let everything he'd held in for so long out…screw worrying about tears, he'd been so controlled for so long he deserved this break, he deserved it. "Oh god…I missed you so much I thought I'd die. I wished sometimes I had—"

"Lex. Lex." Kal punctuated each gasp of Lex's name with a kiss. "I wanted to stop, I wanted not to miss you…but Kal-el came, took me home…brought me back to you." His hands danced over Lex's shoulders, his waist, his chest, and Lex pushed himself into the frantic touches, laughing, cursing, crying. This was… "This better be real," he gasped, "because I've had dreams like this…."

Kal laughed too, his voice broke, trying to tell Lex that yes, it was real and Lex's skin burned with the heat of his kisses, his touch.

"It was Clark all along, wasn't it? He made this happen, all of it. Good. I'm grateful to him." His fierce grip on Kal eased. "Are you…are we still…is this still important to you, or are you. Are you different now…?" Lex dropped his eyes, terrified to look at Kal's face, to hear his answer. He felt a soft gust of air on his neck, and a gentle voice said, "Lex. Don't be a total fool."

Relief flooded every part of Lex, like taking a long drink of cold water on a miserably hot, dry, day. He opened to Kal, drank up his affection, his love. Lex whispered, "I'm afraid it's just my nature to be one Kal, especially when it comes to you."

Kal tipped Lex's chin up that tiny bit it needed to be, so that he could kiss him. Lex moaned into the touch, the liquid smooth feel of Kal's lips, his tongue stroking along his, darting in and out of his mouth. He shuddered, swallowed the warm burst of air Kal gasped into his mouth. Heat bloomed, spread and flowed from his mouth to his belly, lower…

"You are not allowed to call yourself a fool." Kal nibbled soft kisses down Lex's neck, across his shoulder. He was hard, getting harder at Kal's touch. "Lex…so smooth, like silk." Kal's soft hands skimmed Lex's body, until both hands came to rest over his dick, tightening slightly when it twitched at the touch. "Should I? Touch you? Hand, or mouth? Tell me what you want…."

"Everything," Lex laughed, "I want everything but right now, I just want to touch you, convince myself that you're real." He curled his fingers around Kal, hard and so wet , just like he remembered. He smiled into Kal's shoulder, let the waves of pleasure sweep him without conscious thought—all he let himself feel was Kal's heat, the smell of him, the feel of his dick sliding across his palm—the feel of Kal's huge hand tugging his orgasm from him—Lex came with a shout, jerking up into Kal's grip, and Kal shuddered mutely against him, his mouth pressed open on Lex's neck in a silent scream….

They were both quiet, panting breath the only sound and then Kal said quietly, "So…how have you been?"

Lex burst out laughing--his head was still swimming, and he felt wild and giddy. He pressed a hand to Kal's cheek, rushed the words out before he lost the wild bravery rattling in his chest, "I love you--I told you that before but I want you to know, what I felt then hasn't changed. I love you. More than anything, more than—anyone. "

Kal covered Lex's hand; his face went still, but…soft. "I belong to you. I was made for you to love."

Lex drew his hand back, looked at Kal as if seeing him for the first time. "Kal," he laughed, and shook his head. "You don’t belong to me—you never did. *I* belong to you. I'm yours. You made me yours the first time you told me I was an idiot."

"Lex." Kal laughed softly. "You're not—you're just…a little stubborn."

"Did I tell you I have an excellent shower?" Lex asked as he led Kal deeper into the apartment

"A shower? You finally have your proper shower? That’s wonderful…but I'll miss the pond. You looked so beautiful in that clear green water…"

Lex stopped, surprised at first and then warmth flooded him, and he felt as if he couldn't love Kal more without it breaking him completely. "When this—" Lex made a gesture that Kal understood to mean the war, the pain and confusion it brought—"is over, we'll look for our own home again."

"It doesn't matter to me, Lex. Where ever you are is home. Where ever you are I'm happy to be there."

And Lex knew that it was true for both of them.

The End


End file.
